Her Biggest Negotiation

James looked up and our eyes met.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied, with a look loaded with subtext.

"Poor lamb, my husband is rather small," I said. "I love him, but sometimes I fantasize about ..."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Perhaps we SHOULD talk about something else," I said.

We moved on and talked mostly about the work still to do before we all headed off in different directions at week's end. We walked back to the resort, both feeling a little tipsy, and once again James escorted me to my door. Once again, there was an awkward moment as we said our goodnights; however, this time I took his hand in mine and kissed him softly on the check.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening, sweetie," I said.

The next day we broke off into our own delegate groups for much of the day, and I didn't see James at all. I privately worried that the things I had said the night before had spooked him into thinking he had a sex-crazed older woman after him. Still, I almost pined to see him. This of course only reinforced the feelings of guilt I was grappling with. I tried to put it all out of my mind and focus on the task at hand.

Our meetings finished at midday and I decided to take advantage of a rare opportunity to take in a leisurely swim in the ocean and enjoy some sun tanning.

Back in my suite, a cool bossa nova played softly over the bathroom's sound system as I stood before the floor-length mirror. I stripped off my dress and silk stockings and appraised myself in my lacy bra and panties. Though I was far fleshier than I'd been even ten years ago, I remained happy with most of what I saw. Mine was a woman's body, to be sure -- conspicuously large breasts still fairly firm, with little sag; slim waist; legs still shapely. I stripped off my bra and brief panties and put on my new sea foam-coloured bikini. The way the top buttressed and fore-grounded my huge bust made me feel sexy; the tiny bottoms emphasized the curvy, hourglass lines of my waist and hips. I slipped on one of the large, terry-cloth robes provided by the resort, put up my long silvery-blond hair, and touched up my makeup.

When I stepped off my patio and onto the beach proper, I spotted James and a few women from the conference already enjoying the beach and sun! Apparently they had had the same ideas as I.

Having had no contact with him at all that day, and with him being surrounded by a gaggle of younger, bikini-clad colleagues, I felt a pang of jealousy. I stifled my feminine jealousy and smiled and waved to them as I approached. In the bright sun, James' beautiful black skin contrasted with the all-white entourage around him, but there was something else that accentuated that contrast -- consistent with European trends in men's swimwear, James was wearing an incredibly form-fitting, Riviera-style men's box-cut. He stood to adjust his beach recliner as I approached and I took full advantage of my dark sunglasses to drink in his panty-dampening body -- incredibly taut and chiselled, with a gloriously tight ass, broad shoulders, and a washboard stomach you could bounce quarters off. But when he turned to smile at me, I felt a tingle deep in my lower belly, since through the thin nylon fabric of his powder blue swimsuit, I could easily make out the distinct outline of his dormant manhood. I did it a double take -- it was absolutely HUGE!!! The outline of the soft (albeit wrist-thick) shaft extended all the way to his hip. It was all I could not to drop my towel and jaw. His somewhat pained confession the previous night suddenly made a lot more sense. James was clearly a VERY, VERY big boy.

The group of us exchanged pleasantries and acknowledged the postcard-worthy weather and setting. I was by no means alone in my appreciation of James' conspicuous endowment -- as he stood, several other women fixed their eyes on his eye-popping package. Unfortunately, like someone unable to resist staring at the sun, I looked up too late and noticed James had already caught me staring at the front of his swimsuit.

At one point, after observing that as a black man sun tanning held less fascination for him than the group of us Caucasian women, he got up to take a plunge in the turquoise waters. With it now just us women, the conversation immediately turned to the subject of James.

"Oh my god," sighed one women who appeared to be in her mid thirties. "I think I just had an orgasm from looking at his body."

"Honestly, I've never seen one that big before -- it reaches all the way to his hip!!!," added another.

"He would tear me in two with that thing," gasped another; a dumbfounded grin on her face. "But oh my god, what a way to go!"

I smiled a little bashfully as the group of them tried to estimate the size of his flaccid organ (the final consensus being roughly nine inches). If that were true I thought to myself, in a soft state James (in addition to being noticeably thicker already) was double the length of my husband's erection!

Finally, one of the women turned to me and smiled.

"Don't mind us, we're just jealous -- all he can talk about is you and how gorgeous and fascinating you are."

I didn't know what to say.

"It figures," she added. "The only woman amongst us with a wedding ring on her finger, and that's the one he wants."

James emerged from the water, before his appreciative audience, looking more ripped and impressive than ever. The group of us enjoyed an hour or so in the sun before our numbers began to dwindle. Eventually only James and I remained. I lay there, unable to shake the image of his enormous endowment from my mind's eye.

"I think I'm going to pack up and head back to my suite," he said.

With a slightly trembling voice and my heart in my throat, and before I could talk myself out of it, I threw caution to the wind.

"Would you care to join me in my suite for a glass of wine?" I asked.

James smiled and eagerly accepted my offer.

The two of us grabbed our robes and walked the short distance back to my suite. I could feel his eyes on my bikini-clad body as I walked slightly ahead of him. Suddenly self-conscious about my motives for inviting this handsome young man back to my room, I tried to lighten the air by engaging in some superficial small talk; and thereby avoid thinking about what was really going on -- that the two of us were about to make love.

Once inside, we remained in our swimsuits, and I uncorked a bottle of sauvignon blanc; pouring a healthy-sized glass for each of us. We clinked glasses and agreed to enjoy our wine out on the secluded patio.

"I love the colour of your bikini," said James.

I thanked him, and, looking down, drew my fingers across the front panel of my skimpy, sea foam-coloured bikini bottoms.

"I love your swimsuit, too -- VERY sexy," I said. "Can I ask you a question? I hope it won't embarrass you."

"Ask anything you want," he answered.

I looked up into his eyes then back down to the front of his swimsuit.

"Being so big, do you have a difficult time finding a swimsuit that fits properly and isn't uncomfortable for you to wear?"

"I have to buy something that stretches a lot in the front, and even then I usually buy a suit with a waist size several sizes bigger than I need so it's much roomier in the front," he explained.

I felt light-headed with lust and had lost all composure or discretion. I eyed the granite hot tub next to our chairs.

"Would you like to sit in the hot tub? I've got it set for a temperature that's actually quite refreshing."

"I would love that," he replied.

I felt my hands shaking, but there was no turning back -- I was going to be unfaithful to my husband.

"I don't mean to put you on the spot, but it feels so much better in the nude," I said; the quiver in my voice betraying my school girl case of nervous excitement.

"It's so true -- I'm okay with it if you are," said James.

Old enough to be his mother, I slipped off my bikini and stood before him in the nude, taking a liberal sip of wine to steady myself. As I stepped down into the foaming, temperate waters, I caught my reflection in the sliding doors leading to the bedroom and its king-size bed -- the bikini tan lines drawing the eye to the small, neatly-trimmed patch of pubic hair and the palm-sized areolas of my heavy breasts.

The water seemed to calm me. "It feels wonderful," I purred.

James coolly stepped out of his swimsuit and stood before me; nonchalantly laying it atop his robe. My face went crimson as I looked up and caught sight of his now fully unveiled manhood. He remained stoic when he heard me stifle an involuntary gasp. Indeed, I had never seen anything like it. Though forewarned, the size of it still took completely my breath away. It was monstrously large; the length of it tapering down from a tiny patch of tightly-curled pubic hair. Still dormant, it was difficult to assess what was more impressive -- the trunk-like thickness or the awe-inspiring length. It swung heavily between his strong thighs: enormous, thick-veined, and capped with a huge, pleasingly-shaped head.

He smiled then feigned nervousness -- tentatively touching the water with his toe -- before slowly stepping into it; the sheer weight of his flaccid penis causing it to swing in an exaggerated arc between his thighs.

The hot tub was enormous, and we set our wine glasses on the black granite edge and moved around in the water.

Again, almost by some unwritten agreement, we engaged in some playful though superficial conversation.

Beneath the bubbly waters, I could clearly see the ebony anaconda swaying between his legs.

"It feels so good, doesn't it?" I commented. "Being in the nude in the warm water."

"Feels wonderful," he replied, drawing his hand across his broad, wet chest.

The air was electric with a sexual tension that neither of us seemed willing to acknowledge. There was a long pause before I finally capitulated.

"So, James, what's a gorgeous young man like you doing soaking in a hot tub in the nude with a married woman older enough to be your mother?"

James fixed his beautiful eyes upon mine.

"Sara, please, you're all I can think about. I haven't been able to think about anything but you since I first saw you from across the room that first day. You're the sexiest woman I've ever met. I don't care how old you are."

My heart was in my throat.

"Really?" I asked, blushing.

"I can't get you out of my mind. I know it's wrong; that you're married, with children. But I can't help it -- all I can think about is kissing you; making love to you."

"Darling," I sighed. "I want that, too."

Without taking our eyes off each other, James slowly but deliberately moved towards me in the water. My chest heaved and I could feel my pulse racing.

He gently brushed the loose strands of hair from my eyes and tucked them behind my ear. I could feel my body trembling. Reaching down, he placed his full, sensuous lips on mine. My whole body came alive with the touch of his lips on mine. Soft and gentle and delicate, our kisses slowly became more and more passionate. Placing a large hand on my waist, he drew me in closer. I sighed when his giant organ brushed against my hip. With his other hand behind my neck, he gently nibbled my ear lobe and traced a line of kisses down my throat. I was quickly losing all sense of control; his kisses were making my legs weak.

"I've wanted to do that since the first moment I saw you," he said in that deep, sexy voice.

Finally, he slowly took my hand and placed it on his huge penis. I looked down -- my smallish hand was absolutely dwarfed by it; my fingers unable to grasp all the way around it.

"Oh my god," I sighed.

"Big, isn't it?" he said; a confident grin forming on his lips.

I could only nod in the affirmative.

"Why don't we dry off," he asked.

Again, all I could manage was a silent nod. We emerged from the foaming waters and lovingly dried each other off; exchanging passionate kisses as he towelled my fleshy behind with his huge hands. I took James' hand in mine and led him to the expanse of my king-size bed. "Sit down, darling," I said, kneeling between his parted thighs.

His penis was rapidly getting even bigger, and lay heavily across his hip. The size of his giant black stalk defied description -- I could only marvel at the dimensions of it and wonder in awe how any vagina could truly accommodate it without at least some tearing.

"It's okay to use both hands," he said, looking down.

I dutifully complied; drawing back and forth on the taut foreskin with both hands. It felt more like a smooth, velvety baseball bat than a penis; simultaneously scaring me and firing my lust.

"Don't be afraid of it, okay?" said James, in a way that sounded like both a tender reassurance and a desperate plea. "If you get scared, I'm not going to be able to fit it inside you at all."

"I'll try not to, darling," I stammered, my eyes fixed upon easily the biggest penis I'd ever set eyes on (including those I'd had the pleasure of admiring in the couples-oriented dvds I kept in my underwear drawer at home).

"It's okay to want it, Sara -- a nice, big black cock. It's okay to be curious".

He ran his fingers through my hair at the back of my neck.

"You want it, don't you, luv? Even though it scares you," he said. "You want to know what it feels like to have something this big inside that beautiful little white pussy of yours."

Indeed, as formidable a challenge as James was likely to be, I wanted him touch me in places I'd never been touched before; I wanted to experience the physical cocktail of pleasure and pain that women doubtless encountered when they offered him their (invariably) virgin-tight (to him, at least) nether regions.

"Oh my god, darling -- yes I want you inside me," I gasped. "But please be patient with me, okay? I don't want you to damage my insides."

James kissed me tenderly on the lips.

"I promise to be as gentle as I can, sweetie. But you're going to have to trust me, too -- I may have to force it a little sometimes. The important thing is that you relax."

"You need to get me very, VERY wet," I implored, feeling a little drugged with lust. "But first I want to taste you. I want to see if your enormous cock will fit in my little mouth."

I positioned myself between his thighs; cupping his sac in one hand and stroking his huge, hardening shaft with the other. I kissed along the surface of it and playfully nibbled it with my teeth; leaving a long smear of lipstick along the length of it. I felt like a wanton bitch in heat. I felt its weight in my hand; lifting it and tracing my tongue along the underside. The smell of his sex filled my nostrils. Squeezing the trunk-like shaft, a large pearly drop of pre cum oozed from the tip. I pursed my lips and suckled the salty discharge.

I'd always been highly skilled at pleasuring a man orally, but somehow this was different -- with my husband it had become just that, 'pleasuring him orally'; with James, it was pure carnality. This was 'sucking cock' -- a massive one at that -- plain and simple. I spat as much saliva on it as I could muster.

"Good, girl," observed James. "Lots of spit."

I opened my mouth as wide as I could and enveloped the huge head. James closed his eyes as I began swirling my tongue about the head. With my hands working the rest of his colossal eleven and a half inch shaft, I leaned in and managed to force a bit more into my mouth. He was so thick my tongue was largely trapped against the bottom of my mouth; my nostrils flared as I was forced to breathe through my nose. I leaned forward again and felt the head press against the back of my throat. I tried to relax; fighting off the reflex to gag. The combined actions of pumping and sucking quickly drew James towards orgasm. He groaned from the pleasure of it and leaned back on his hands. I began to fellate him with greater and greater enthusiasm; the sound of my saliva churning in my mouth was positively obscene. Spit seeped from my lips and trickled down his shaft and over my fingers.

"Oh sweetie, that's right -- suck that big black dick," groaned James; my mouth stuffed with a mere fraction of his oversized manhood.

As my efforts continued unabated, I felt his sac tighten.

"I'm going to cum, Sara," he warned. Unable to speak, I grunted my acquiescence. I wanted desperately to suck and swallow every last drop of cum from his cock.

Another moment or two passed before a volcanic burst of warm cum exploded down my throat. The volume of it was staggering. I swallowed hard, and often, for several seconds in a desperate effort not to gag. But despite my best efforts, a cascade of white discharge exploded from my mouth and mixed with the spit covering my fingers. The top end of his sex was smeared with a pasty blend of my spit, his semen, and my lipstick. Like a hungry slut, I licked my lips and sucked the remnants of his orgasm from my fingers.

James kissed me, sensually; suckling my tongue and tasting his own cum. We then took refuge in the sunken hot tub to recuperate, replenish ourselves, and wash the sex and cum from our bodies.

James began suckling my huge, buoyant breasts between sips of wine; marvelling at their weight and the size of my areolas. I moaned with the intense pleasure of his lips on my sensitive breasts.

The warm, swirling, bubbly water cleansed our bodies of oils, semen, and sweat, reinvigorating us. Refreshed, we dried each other off once again. I caught myself giggling as I playfully and lovingly towelled his enormous phallus dry. Afterwards, we slipped our robes back on and cuddled on the expansive bed. We kissed passionately; rekindling our desire and resuming our love-making with renewed enthusiasm. As we did, James' intimidating, eleven-and-a-half inch pussy-destroyer was restored to its full virility and pressed hotly against my inner thigh. I swooned from the feel of it; so dangerously close to its natural point of entry.

I kissed him with my soft, pillowy lips and gently fingered the short-cropped hair at his temples.

"Oh James, I have such a hopelessly big crush on you. I know, it's silly -- I'm old enough to be your mother -- but I want you to make love to me so badly," I swooned. "But I AM a little scared. Please don't be upset with me; it's so huge. I'm incredibly wet, but I don't see how it could possibly fit. But I promise to be a good girl and try my best. Promise me again that you'll take it slow?"

He looked into my eyes.

"I promise. Just promise ME that you'll try your best to RELAX? The pleasure will be so much more intense if you do. And give it time. You'd be surprised," he added with a grin. "Even though women say it's uncomfortable and even painful at first, believe it or not they also tend to end up experiencing orgasms in the double digits," he said with a grin. "The kind that make your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl."

As I undid my robe and lay back on the bed, James knelt between my parted thighs and let his own drop from his shoulders. I looked down at the forearm-thick organ swinging heavily between his thighs; the tip of its massive head coming to rest atop my neatly-trimmed strip of pubic hair. My breathing quickly intensified as the conspicuous disparity in size -- between his massive penis and my smallish point of entry -- became all too apparent.

"Oh my god," I gasped. "As bad as I want this, I'm not sure I can do it."

I watched him stroke his weapon with both hands to ensure that it was as rock hard as possible. I found the site of this intensely erotic, if not intimidating -- the strong arms and chest; the narrow waist, flat tummy; the sculpted thighs; and the focused attention on his powerful, young cock. With a sexy, sleepy-eyed expression on his face, he worked the entire length of it -- from the small thatch of pubic hair at its base to the beautiful head (which appeared to be as large as my fist).